Father Knows Best and the Gibblets Know the Least
by Dixie Dewdrop
Summary: As a father of four teens with their own distinct personalities, Jethro Gibbs has his hands full with Tony, Kate, Tim, and Abby. This is part of my Here and Now scenario.
1. Not a Debatable Issue

Not a Debatable Issue

"Ducky, really, I think you enjoy torture," NCIS Team Leader Leroy Jethro Gibbs complained, his voice laced with exasperation, as he threw himself down onto his well worn sofa.

"Absolutely, now be quiet and let me give you this painkiller," agreed Dr. Donald (Ducky) Mallard. He rummaged through the medical bag he had brought into his friend's home. Grabbing a vial of clear liquid, he raised it to check the labeling as he spoke. "However, my good man, you contribute to this necessary torture by insisting you have to get out and run down criminals yourself, personally. Let me remind you that you function as a team leader, with the operative word being leader."

Jethro scowled as Ducky swabbed his arm with an alcohol pad and then readied a hypodermic with painkiller. Unable to think of an appropriate response he muttered, "Holding my job against me now?"

Ducky shook his head and replied sternly. "Jethro, you have a team you have nurtured and trained to function as capable agents outside of your presence. As if they had been your own children you have successfully, in stages, moved them towards independence on the job."

"Ok, then, if you insist upon comparing them to personal offspring let me point out that their Father knows best- at all times- every time. They needed me in the field with them today, and will each day they show up for the job."

"Of course," Ducky murmured, patting Jethro on the cheek, "though I assure you I most certainly do not concur. However, your team did bring down the bad guys, though as is evidenced right now, it came with a price. You suffered injury by participating in the process."

He waited several seconds after administering the shot before continuing, "Now, close your eyes and rest. I am propping your leg so that you keep your knee as immobile as possible. The fact that you continue to re-injure this same knee disturbs me."

Gibbs regarded his friend through half closed lids and responded grudgingly, "I can still walk, and if you would stop mollycoddling me I could return to my job and supervise my team. Throwing your weight around at the agency and having me sent home does not become you, Doctor Mallard."

Ducky patted him on the shoulder and began packing his supplies. "All right, Jethro, but let me remind you that you keep such tight control of your team's work time they can not possibly err. Give them credit for maturing."

Before he could turn to leave the NCIS team leader had slipped into sleep.

**A scowling Abby sat outside of the assistant principal's office of her high school and did not bother to hide her irritation.**

Kicking at the leg of her hard plastic chair she justified her current position with an internal dialogue skewed to her own perspective. Just because she tried to express her personal opinion the sociology teacher had over-reacted at her response, and consequently, the freshman now faced disciplinary action from the dreaded Mr. Marlowe.

It just stank! The whole situation did not merit a visit to the school's office.

She smoothed out her black crepe skirt to lie evenly across her knees and sat up straight, determined to practice deep breathing to take control of her emotions. Her temper, which had flared once the teacher pointed her towards the office, did not need to resurface.

It would not strengthen her best interests to make an administrator mad, also.

Suddenly Mr. Marlowe's door opened and his tall, lanky figure framed the entrance. He stepped back to allow a student to exit.

Slipping around him, an attractive brunette closed her notebook, slid her pen into her diminutive pocketbook, and smiled gratefully.

"Thank you so, so much for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Marlowe," she gushed, and with a start, Abby realized that the interviewer was her very own older sister, Kate.

Could her luck get any worse?

Abby groaned and tried to turn in the seat so that the older girl would fail to recognize her.

Kate noticed her at the same time that the educator did, though, and she narrowed her eyes meaningfully at her sister. Though taller and not as petite, Abby shrank back into her seat and tried to appear an innocent office visitor. The last thing she needed was to have Kate tell her, once again, not to embarrass her in any way now that she had joined her high school.

Two years older than Abby, sixteen year old Kate had made their high school her own kingdom, and as a junior, reigned as a popular cohort with her peers and as a favored student with her teachers.

Poised and regal, she spent a great deal of time maintaining her dignity and refining her speech and mannerisms.

Savvy to the potential drawbacks that could affect her because of her siblings, Kate shot another angry glance at the little criminal.

Abby dropped her gaze to focus on her hands, and felt tears fill her eyes.

"Hurry on before the bell rings," Mr. Marlowe advised, smiling at Kate, "and thank you for representing the Student Council so responsibly. I look forward to reading your interview."

Focusing fully upon Abby, he shook his head and motioned her into his office. She stood just as Kate passed her, and though her sister did not visibly acknowledge her, as she passed she hissed, "Don't tell him you know me, you little brat!"

Kate flounced out of the office atrium and Abby felt a stab of panic. She would land into a cauldron of trouble if Kate reported her discipline issue to their dad, NCIS Team Leader and Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

On the other side of the high school campus Abby's oldest brother, Tony, strode down the hall to his British Literature class with his arm around the waist of his girlfriend, a petite brunette named Ariel. Snuggled into him as they walked, the couple turned heads. As a senior, Tony was one of the school's stars- not only was he extremely handsome with flashing green eyes and a wonderful physique, but his athletic prowess had contributed to several championships for his alma mater.

His current squeeze fit the description of "stunning" by anyone's definition.

They paused by the door near Ariel's class and Tony leaned down to whisper, "Let me see what I can figure out to do, ok? We might just make that party." He nuzzled behind her ear.

With a giggle she shook her soft curls and pulled away. "Tony, you know better. We'll just have to spend time together at school. No way will you get to that party once your dad sees those grades."

Ariel left him then, floating into her own classroom while he walked further down the hall to his, upset with himself. Ariel spoke the truth about their missing the anticipated party, even if he did not want to accept it yet.

However, his dad had never faltered on his expectations of grades, nor would he suddenly relent and change his demands for appropriate grades. He considered any grades other than A's or B's absolutely unacceptable for any of his four children, a fact well known to all four of their brains.

Tony had earned low marks in two classes, which now lay recorded on his progress report, the same form which required a parental signature and had to be returned to the school the next day.

Tony did not hold out hope for the party, or for his own immediate happiness, for that matter. Not only would his dad hit the roof when he saw his oldest son's progress report, but from past experience, Tony knew his father would ground him as punishment.

Pausing at his classroom door he squared his shoulders and tried to channel positive thoughts. He made the decision to not give up hope until his dad actually held the unwelcome grade sheet, no matter how bleak the situation appeared.

Who knew? Something could very well change. Maybe the teachers of those classes had miscalculated when they averaged his grades this go around. Perhaps they had additional grades not already included, and when added, his scores would jump to A's!

No matter how dismal his circumstances appeared at the moment, he would stay positive.

Gorgeous Ariel needed him.

He wanted to party and shake off obligations and responsibilities.

Tony grinned.


	2. Certain

Certain

Just a few hours later three of the four children of Jethro Gibbs devoted themselves to their after school chores, though not in the most collaborative or constructive ways.

In fact, fifteen year old Tim stood at the landing to the stairs and called up impatiently, "Tony, you had better get down here now and take care of your responsibility, which happens to be the helping to prep dinner this week! I can not start on my own duties prepping for supper until you empty the trash! Get down here and help me!"

When no response followed, Tim slapped the newel post irritably. Practically throbbing with indignation, he headed to the kitchen. Before reaching the doorway, though, he swiveled backwards to threaten, "Ok, when Dad gets angry at me for slacking I am going to throw you under the bus! Forget sibling loyalty, Tony!"

Not as confident and easygoing as his brother, Tim still possessed a strong sense of justice and did not appreciate his brother's disregard of the rules.

Grumbling, he marched back and began hauling ingredients out of the cabinets and the pantry, muttering to himself as he did so.

Running feet pounding down the stairs signaled Tony's arrival, which finished once he slid across the kitchen floor and landed with a flourish against the stove. Bowing, the teen grinned at his younger brother and raised his eyebrows. "Tim, I love you, Man."

Rolling his eyes, Tim ran his hands through his dark blond hair and responded, "Forget whatever you want as a favor. Whatever you have in mind, I will not do it and will not go along with it."

Stepping back and appearing genuinely wounded, Tony reached over and patted his sibling's back. "Who said I wanted anything? I intended to display my affection and respect for you, Timmy."

"You do. You do want something. I know you, and my answer is no." He paused before continuing, "Just so you know, Dad will not be pleased if you are slacking in your afternoon chores."

"Got it, Timmy tattletale, and who put you in such a foul mood? Did a science experiment implode on you? Did you make less than a perfect one hundred on a pop quiz?"

Tim sighed and confided his trouble. "Not who- or whom- but what. The Smithsonian Museum has a temporary exhibit of Orville and Wilbur Wright which usually remains at Cape Canaveral. Tomorrow is the last day before they ship it back, and I have not been allowed a chance to visit the display. I really hoped I could see it. Really, what is the point of being a D. C. resident if I am not exposed to all it has to offer?"

"Hmmm…." Tony murmured thoughtfully, tying the top of the trashbag and then hoisting it over his shoulder. "Let me dispose of this refuse and we shall chat as we ready the environment for our nightly family repast."

Tim watched him, exasperation with his afternoon coworker fading to affection for his brother as his athletic figure disappeared outdoors.

Tim turned his attention back to supper preparations.

The older boy joined him within minutes, washed his hands, and grabbed a knife. Searching the counter he questioned, "Did you get out the onions already?"

Tim pointed towards the pantry. "I forgot, but we should have some in there. Look on the bottom shelf around that bag of potatoes."

Tony quickly returned with a Vidalia onion, which he attempted to spin on his forefinger as he feinted basketball moves around the kitchen. When it finally fell into the sink he swooped it up with a frown and promised the onion, "Since you did not cooperate with me, I plan to strip you to the soul of your disappointing core!"

His brother rolled his eyes at the activity, but could not restrain a grin.

Working together at the kitchen counter, the boys chopped, diced, and attacked vegetables in near silence, each lost within inner musings.

Finally, Tony broke the solitude. "Listen, I have a proposition for you, my favorite brother."

Immediately suspicious, Tim turned to face his sibling. "That sounds ominous, Tony, and besides, I know you possess conscious awareness that I am your only brother."

Instead of smiling at the reply, Tony held up a hand and spoke earnestly, lowering his voice. "Hold on a second and let me give you the sit rep before you activate any spidey sense, please. Look at me and see how serious I feel."

Tim licked his lips thoughtfully and waited to hear his brother elaborate. "Ok, sorry-"

Sliding his cutting board and knife into the dishwasher, Tony wiped his hands on the dishtowel and pointed towards the stairs. "Not here- let's head to our room and talk privately."

Without waiting for an acknowledgment he left, while his brother trailed behind him. Tim paused on the bottom step when he heard a car door slam outside of the house, and changed his focus to watching the front door expectantly.

Moments later Kate hurried into the house, slinging her bookbag through the entry area as she slammed the door.

Tim dodged injury by jumping to the next stair and grabbing the railing. "Hey! Watch it, Kate!"

Pausing long enough to contemplate his indignant command, she wrinkled her nose. "Sorry about that, Mr. Sensitive, but you have no business hanging out on the bottom step."

Sticking out her tongue, she turned with a flounce at that assessment and dashed towards the kitchen.

Annoyed with the ease in which she cast the blame his way Tim leaned over the rail and threatened, "Maybe Dad needs to find out that you made it home over an hour later than you should have, Katie. We all know how he feels about breaking curfews and disregarding his rules."

Glancing over her shoulder she taunted, "Go right ahead, Big Mouth, but I obtained permission from Dad- meaning I planned accordingly- to go to Rachel's after school to work on a project. You lose!"

Tim snorted but decided not to pursue the tardy issue. Her excuse sounded legitimate. Instead, he climbed the stairs and joined Tony, who lay sprawled across his bed with his arms crossed behind his head.

He sat gingerly on his own bed, not wanting to disturb the comforter or rumple any part of the bedding. "Ok, tell me what you have lurking in your brain."

Flipping onto his side so that he could establish eye contact, Tony summarized, "You want to revel in Orville and Wilbur, and believe it or not, I think you should go. Hobnobbing with historical artifacts should stimulate your educational senses."

The younger boy smiled softly. "Thanks for the support, but I thought you understood that the exhibit and my life will not intersect. Dad said no."

"Because?" Tony prodded, raising his eyebrows as a signal to Tim to supply detail.

"Because you know why- Dad. I asked; he said no."

The boys regarded each other for several moments. Leroy Jethro Gibbs not only ran a tight ship with his team at NCIS, but with his four children at home.

Undermining his leadership did not appeal to the boys.

Nevertheless, Tony concluded by prompting, "So that settles that, right?"

Frowning at the hint of subterfuge, Tim stammered, "What a stupid question- you know Dad would hit the roof- Tony, you, yourself have suffered the aftermath of disobeying him. What kind of question even is that? Sure, that settles the Wright Brothers visit."

"Does it now?" Tony smirked, "I have a plan."

"You have a plan? Right, you have a plan. Leave me out of it, Tony. I have never heard Dad say he had an age limit on beating our butts, and frankly, I don't want to tempt him. Even if he foregoes corporal punishment I will end up miserable once he gets through with me and spits me out."

Several seconds lapsed before Tony promised. "What if I made sure Dad stayed unaware of your covert activity?"

"Like, what does that mean?"

Tony sat up and swung his legs onto the floor. "I plan to help you get your wish, and then, Timothy, I need you to help me."


	3. Disputable

Disputable

Fingernails tapping the doorframe accompanied by a dramatic sigh startled the two, and Tim jumped up defensively. "Abby! You need to quit slipping up on us."

Narrowing her eyes she sputtered a response, "No one sneaked up on you 'cause no one cares enough about your stupid conversation to eavesdrop."

"Nevertheless, you are hanging around our doorway," Tony pointed out snidely, pointing towards the doorframe.

That really annoyed her. "Again, who cares? Not I."

"Then get out and quit eavesdropping-" ordered Tim.

"Now," Tony interrupted, "as in right this minute now. We want to talk privately."

"Just what makes you think you can tell me what to do?" she demanded.

Without responding directly, Tony stood up, crossed the room, and shut the door in her face.

Then he and Tim resumed their conversation while her outraged threats and stomping down the stairs sounded in the background.

Tony paced the room. "Look, I want us to come out with a foolproof plan in the next few minutes. Dad will get home soon, and we need to set the scene. Now, my dilemma lies in the fact that I played around too much this term and it shows. So, if you help me with my progress report, I will make sure that you get to that exhibit without our dear daddy any the wiser."

Encouraged, Tim spoke. "Let me have your grade paper, Tony."

Excited at the possibility of a reprieve, Tony began pulling books and notebooks from his bookbag, and after several seconds of hurriedly shoving material around, he produced the offensive paper and presented it to his brother.

Glancing from his sibling to the report and back again, Tim grinned conspiratorially and ordered, "Get the phone for me and let me call Dad."

"Are you kidding?" Tony tried to snatch the paper away. "I thought you would have my back."

"Just wait!" Tim commanded.

Quietly turning the knob to the door he slipped into the hall, grabbed the phone, and dialed the NCIS number as he returned. He smiled jubilantly when he realized the answering machine would pick up the call, and winked at his brother as he recorded, "Dad, I have to make a quick trip to the library to check one source for my research paper. Tony agreed to drive me, and I swear to you we will be back by supper. I just need to get down there or I will not be able to finish the section I need to complete tonight. We finished the supper chores already."

Disconnecting the call, he motioned to his brother and they both moved quietly down the stairs and out the door, practically running to Tony's car.

As soon as they came upon the library entrance Tim opened the car door and unsnapped his seat belt.

Tony grabbed his arm. "Hey, give me half an hour and I will be right back here to get you."

His brother nodded and jogged into the building just as Tony merged back into the street's traffic.

True to his word, a half hour later a grinning Tim slid back into the passenger seat of the car and patted the dash triumphantly. "Hit the road, Buddy."

"Let me see that," Tony ordered, trying to glance at the amended paper Tim waved.

"No," Tim contradicted. "Drive, and get us home in one piece. Rest assured, though, that you have no grade lower than a B on this report."

"Oh thanks, thanks, and thanks! That means my beautiful Ariel gets to dress up and accompany me to a kicking party Friday night."

Acknowledging the words with a small chuckle, Tim gazed out the window, watching as they made the turn into their residential street and their home came into view.

Tony put his arm over his brother's shoulder. "You appear saddened, Tiny Tim, but remember that your brother looks out for you."

Tim turned to regard him, and Tony wagged his eyebrows. "While you worked your magic in the library, I worked mine with a friend who owes me a favor. So, tomorrow when you get to school you will bypass all entrances to navigate the student parking area instead. There, Bryson Mirren, Ricky from my football team's older brother, will give you a ride into D.C. on his way to work and will pick you up on his way home. That will get you back home at a time which our educationally minded daddy will consider a reasonable one to stay after school for additional help."

Wide eyed as he absorbed the great news, Tim responded, "Tony, you have saved my life. I appreciate it."

Swinging the car into the driveway, Tony spied his dad's vehicle. He parked thoughtfully and turned to caution his brother. "Hey, Dad beat us home now. Make sure that we act like nothing different has happened, like we normally do. We need to keep him in the not suspicious frame of mind."

"Got it, and here's the progress report."

As soon as Tim handed the revised report to him Tony kissed it dramatically and thrust it into his pocket. "Let's go make Dear Old Dad a happy man."

When Jethro Gibbs opened his front door that afternoon, he marveled first at the silence which greeted him.

Visually appraising the hall and areas visible from the entrance, he noted none of his offspring visible in the downstairs.

That was an interesting fact to note.

He deposited his car keys on the foyer table and concluded that all four of his teens appeared to have gotten home from school, despite the tranquility pervading the house.

Hopefully, they had taken care of their afternoon chores and tackled any homework before the evening meal.

Calling up the stairs both Abby's and Kate's voices trickled down in return, assuring him that they still had homework to finish.

Good for them for taking care of business.

He remembered then that Tim had left him a message that schoolwork required he visit the library, and that his younger son had managed to get Tony to agree to drive him.

Though his oldest did have a car to drive and enjoy, it came with a price and stipulations.

His father expected Tony to provide chauffeur services for the other children as required.

Usually it required an explicit command from his father to get Tony to taxi the others, however, so Jethro was relieved that Tony had taken Tim to the library without a hassle.

Moving into the kitchen Gibbs allowed his imagination to roam as he filled the coffee pot with water and coarsely ground beans and activated the power switch. Leaning against the counter he idly considered and discarded ideas of what payment Tony had required from Tim to actually take his little brother to the library voluntarily, or without a direct order to do so from Jethro.

He checked the assignment board posted near the refrigerator. His home life depended upon organization and duty rosters followed by each of his kids. Today, for example, the boys had the job of prepping for supper. Looking around at the plates of chopped vegetables and the table set with flatware and dishes, Gibbs nodded approvingly.

Good for the boys!

On the other hand, today the girls were responsible for the after supper clean up.

Jethro poured himself a cup of steaming coffee before he began pulling out pans and utensils. Tonight's meal would consist of roasted chicken, a rice pilaf, carrots and asparagus.

Checking the freezer for rolls he realized there were none and made a notation on the grocery list held to its door by a magnet of Thomas Magnum, Tony's favorite television character.

He processed his workday at NCIS, which had demanded a great deal physically from him. One of the suspects he had kept under surveillance for several days noticed him, panicked, and tried to run.

Jethro had him facedown on pavement in just two blocks.

The victory came with a price, though- his knee ached from the activity.


	4. Positive

Positive

Kate padded softly up behind him and slid her slender arms around his waist. "Something smells yummy good, Dad."

He turned halfway to grin at her. "I'm making that rosemary chicken you liked so much a couple of weeks ago and said we need to start eating regularly."

Turning him loose, she slid to the side and leaned against a cabinet so that they could speak face to face. "Exactly, and I am so glad that you listened. We need to have more meals like this, more healthy fare as opposed to the usual meat and potatoes laden suppers."

"Small steps, Kate, small steps-"

She giggled. "Rachel and I really got some intense work done this afternoon. Thank you, Dad, for letting me go to her house after school."

"No problem, but remind me what class for you two requires the project."

"Psychology, Dad, my psych class. We have created a class study guide which lists prefixes and suffixes in psychology and gives their meanings."

Jethro motioned for her to move so that he could access the oven.

Sliding in the chickens and setting the temperature and timer, Gibbs commented, "It sounds like a good project, not one someone else will do. I am glad you thought of an idea outside of the box."

"Well, I figured it wouldn't hurt me in the long run, since so many of those sciencey- sounding words have Latin parts."

"How much more do you two have before you finish?" Jethro stirred the rice thoughtfully and leaned his head to the side. "You definitely are paying attention to its due date."

"True, and actually, I came to speak to you about just that. Rachel and I want it completed this weekend. I was thinking that I could go home with her Friday and spend the night, and we just could finish by buckling down with the whole thing. Then I wouldn't have it hanging over my head. It would be done, Dad."

"Let me think about it," he replied, non committal. As a general rule, he did not allow his kids overnights with friends.

As much as he wanted to turn his four into independently functioning citizens, something about having his children under his roof- together- at night comforted him.

She agreed good naturedly. "Certainly, Daddy, and Rachel will ask her mom tonight if she minds. I just really want to do a good job on this assignment."

"Come here," he ordered, motioning her to him.

When she obeyed, he pulled her to him and kissed her softly on the forehead. "You make me so proud, Honey."

She laughed at the sentiment, then slapped her hand against her forehead. "Wow, I can't believe I forgot- here's my progress report for you, Dad."

With a flourish she pulled it from her pocket and presented it to him. Jethro left the stove and sat down in a chair, pulling out a pair of glasses to use while he studied the document.

Finally he looked up at her and grinned, "Fantastic, Honey, and I love those A's. The B's are good, too, but I want to see you aim to turn them into A's by the time the actual report card gets issued. But this absolutely makes your dad one proud man."

She handed him a pen and he signed at the bottom of the page before handing it back to her. "Go put this in your bookbag tonight."

As she slipped out of the room he called her back. "Where is your sister?"

Frowning, she regarded him and answered honestly. "Upstairs, and she's in a nasty mood."

"Why is that?" Jethro raised his eyebrows. Abby normally was his full- of – sunshine child.

"Uhm, maybe because she got into trouble today."

Gibbs considered the possibility. "Do you know that for a fact?"

"I do," Kate replied instantly, evidently feeling no guilt at tattling on her baby sister. "Shall I tell her you want to see her when I get upstairs?"

He nodded and a few seconds later heard the sound of voices on the landing, Kate's triumphant and Abby's angry.

Evidently his baby did not appreciate her sister ratting her out to their parent.

Scrutinizing the pots and pans he lowered the temperature so that he could devote some undivided attention to Miss Abigail.

She came into the kitchen like a whirlwind, face transformed into a stormy expression which she quickly changed to a pout when she spied her father.

Ignoring her upset, he greeted her with a kiss before asking for her progress report. Glancing at it, he discovered she had done even better than Kate, with all A's and one sole B. Jethro hugged her while assuring her that he had the most brilliant child in all of D.C.

Momentarily forgetting the rough part of her day, she began prattling happily about her scores and the work she had completed that day in school. He allowed her a few minutes of chatter before he held up his hand and ordered quietly, "Now, change the subject and tell me why you had trouble at school today."

Her expression transformed instantly to one of wounded anger. "Kate had no right to blab about me. She needs to worry about her own self."

Jethro Gibbs, master of getting to the bottom line within a minimum of time and a father for seventeen years, slid into his get- yourself- focused- right- this- minute- persona and demanded his daughter's attention. "Kate does not concern me right at the moment, Abby. You do, and I want an explanation now."

It did not take more than a few seconds before she responded in an indignant tone. "Dad, I really, truly, really and truly did not do anything that bad. I mean, I was in sociology class and my teacher said that she had scheduled a test for us on Friday. So I raised my hand, like I know to do, and I did not blurt out or interrupt or talk rudely, and when she called on me I just pointed out that sociologically she needed to restructure the way she handled groups and her teaching schedule. Then everyone in the class started laughing and I guess it embarrassed her and she told me to go to Mr. Marlowe's office."

Puffing out her lip (she and Tony habitually used pouting as a strategic ploy), she concluded, "Then Mr. Marlowe just freaked on me and called me disruptive and said I have detention for a whole week."

Glancing at her dad, she tried to gain a quick assessment of whether the explanation mollified him. It definitely did not, according to his angry expression, and she exhaled strongly enough to blow her bangs at the same time that she rolled her eyes. "Dad, really, what I did or what I said should not have been blown out of proportion that way."

Gibbs rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Abby-"

Sensing her father about to announce his allegiance to the school's adults, the teen interrupted with a plea, "I promise you that those kids laughed all by themselves, and you need to remember that I had a good report card, Daddy. Please?"

Of all of his children, Abby had a shrewd and innate sense of her father's trigger points, moreso than her siblings. She had correctly diagnosed he would hone in on the disrespect aspect of the situation, and mentally kicked herself for introducing it into his menu of thoughts.

"Go sit down," he directed, pointing to her chair at the table.

No luck- he did not plan to ignore the incident, evidently.

She argued, her voice turning to a whine, "I already got a whole week of detention, Daddy, I told you that."

Ignoring the reminder, he replied, "I believe you were instructed to sit down, Young Lady." Gibbs raised his eyebrows, signaling his expectation that she obey at once.

With as much attitude as she could display in the journey between the cabinets and the table, she yanked out her chair with such force that the table shook. To top the performance, she slammed her body against the seat's back and crossed her arms over her chest.

In two fluid moves her father traversed the space between them, yanked her out of the chair, and delivered three stinging smacks to her backside. Setting her squarely in front of him he spoke calmly. "Now, Abby, sit back down in the chair the way you should have the first time, and take care of that attitude."

Wiping the tears that suddenly began to cascade, she nodded and sat gingerly, then carefully adopted a neutral expression to appease him.


	5. Questionable

Questionable

Gibbs turned away and checked the status of supper before resuming the conversation with his youngest. "At no time have I ever allowed you to speak or act disrespectfully to an adult, Abby. Nor have I, by any stretch of the imagination, encouraged you to undermine a single teacher since you began school. In fact, I would have to say that I have taught you just the opposite. It disturbs me that even though you know in your heart that your motive today was to gain attention and to get the class to respond to you, you have spent quite some effort into trying to justify your wrong."

He paused and tilted his head, cognizant that he had hit home with her. "Look at Daddy, Honey."

She did, and her tears now spilled and flowed in a steady stream.

He grabbed a napkin and handed it to her, watching it as she soaked up tears and wadded it into a ball.

"I will leave it up to you to find how to personally acknowledge your wrong to this teacher, and I expect you to report back to me when you do so. As for those five days of detention, you will walk home from school all five of those days."

Her head snapped up and she opened her mouth to speak, but he cut off the entreaty by holding up both palms. "I said walk, and that means you will not get your brother or a friend to give you a lift. Part of maturing stems from accepting the consequences of your actions. Do you understand me?"

Abby nodded.

"Now, I do not tolerate misbehavior at school in any form, a rule of which you have long been aware. Therefore, for the next two weeks I am grounding you. You are restricted to this house and your school and nowhere else, and since by your actions you appear to have regressed into that middle school student you were last year, I will treat you as such. That means your bedtime is 9:00 until such time as I consider you deserve and have earned a later one. Now, do you have any questions?"

She shook her head rapidly back and forth.

"Then go upstairs to your room until time for supper, and make sure that you take care of homework."

Slipping carefully from the seat she faced him, lip wobbling and openly crying. Gibbs did not award her any sympathy. Tapping her under the chin he promised, "Honey, you have put yourself in a bad position with me by this stunt of yours. If I have to revisit this issue, or any issues with your conduct in the next few weeks, you will find yourself on the receiving end of a spanking."

Her eyes widened.

Gibbs did not make idle threats, a fact all too known to his daughter. With a hurried nod she left him and miserably climbed the stairs to her room.

Before Jethro had the chance to turn back to the stove the front door flew open and his sons entered, Tony boisterously, and Tim quietly.

He grinned at them both, and reminded himself that at least they had spent the afternoon practicing good habits and teamwork.

"Hey, Dad," Tim greeted.

Simultaneously Tony spoke, throwing his arm across his parent's shoulder, "Good afternoon, my favorite father."

Though almost the same height, the two boys shared few other characteristics. Gregarious and a natural athlete, Tony possessed dozens of friends, and females flocked to him in droves. Tim, more of an introvert, approached life through a decidedly low key vantage point, and tended to follow rather than to lead.

Tony pulled away from his dad, "Guess where we have been? I took little baby boy there to the big kid library and…"

Before Tim could sputter out his displeasure at his label, raised voices interrupted from above them.

Jethro narrowed his eyes with displeasure as he looked towards the top floor.

"It sounds like trouble with Abby," commented Tim, surprised that his sister's voice sounded so passionately angry.

Tony met his father's gaze and Jethro raised his eyebrows, inclined his head, and nodded, effectively signaling his son without using his voice.

Tony pivoted and jogged up the stairs, and Jethro watched him disappear from view before addressing Tim. "Ok, well tell me what success you had at the library, Son."

Upstairs, without waiting for an invitation to enter, Tony rapped twice on the door to Kate and Abby's room before throwing it open.

Abby stood by the window, hands on hips, with her face practically radiating her intense anger. Kate, perched on the bed with her schoolbooks beside her, had her arms crossed defiantly across her chest.

Evidently, she had not gained control of her own displeasure since the shouting went back and forth, though Abby's voice sounded most threatening.

Without asking what he had interrupted Tony looked pointedly at his little sister, motioned, and ordered, "With me, Abby-"

He stepped back and pointed towards the door.

She took exception to his presumption. "That is not fair, Tony! You just got here and now you want to blame me when…" she argued, eyes flashing.

Tony's jaw clenched and he pointed towards the doorway. "Now, Abby!"

She teetered for a few seconds between standing her ground or doing as he demanded. With a dramatic flounce she flung herself from the room, her departure checked when Tony grabbed the back of her dress at the neck.

She stumbled against him.

"My room," he hissed.

"Ok, ok," she agreed, squirming free from his grasp.

He watched her cross the hall before he turned his attention towards Kate, who bestowed a satisfied smirk upon him. "What's up here, Katie? Rarely does our little sister erupt like this."

Kate stood up and stretched, "Crybaby's mad 'cause I told Dad she got sent to the principal's office today."

Shocked with the answer, Tony clarified, "Abby- our Abby got into big enough trouble to get sent to the school penitentiary?"

"Indeed she did," Kate confirmed.

"So I get it," he clarified, "and so, you felt it necessary to enlighten Dad."

Tossing back her hair she smirked again.

Shaking his head in disapproval, Tony waved a dismissal and then followed Abby's path.

His baby sister had flung herself across his bed, head buried in her arms. His heart melted at the sight. Since she had been born he had made it his mission to protect her, and to make her feel loved and adored.

His heart went out to her and he regarded her several moments, planning his approach.

She knew he would always provide a safe haven for her. He really did not want to do anything to force her to question that.

Then again, her behavior needed addressing before his dad was forced to intervene, and he needed to take charge quickly and deal with the crisis.

Minutes earlier Jethro Gibbs had signaled his son because in instances just like these, he trusted his eldest to deescalate the situation.

Tony sat down beside her and gently rubbed her back and cheek, urging softly, "Come on, my little Abbykedabbydahgabbywabby, and tell your big brother what has upset you this badly."

As Jethro Gibbs could attest, over the years he had witnessed bonds develop between all four children as they matured physically and mentally, and depending upon the time or the day, loyalties waxed or waned amongst the group. However, the strongest consistent tie radiated from Tony's position as the eldest. The other three accepted him, though sometimes grudgingly, as the oldest and one next in line from Jethro.

Changing positions, Tony scooted until he leaned against the bed's headboard, then repositioned his sister so that her head rested across his knees. Massaging her shoulders, he waited until the sobbing turned to shuddery breaths, then he leaned down and tapped her forehead. "Ok, tell me, my Abby-abby-gail."


	6. Definite

Definite

He did not have to prod her whatsoever. She wanted some measure of justice from someone.

She sputtered out her upset and rage over her upsetting day, and concluded by relaying the subsequent punishment doled out once her misbehavior came to her daddy's attention, thanks, of course, to Kate's machinations.

Tony smoothed back her bangs when she finally finished the tale and weighed his words diplomatically before he spoke. "Ok, I think I understand how your day went down, and I certainly sympathize with how upset you feel, especially since Dad really lowered the boom on you."

"I know, right?" She scrunched up her face and frowned, but leaned up to pat his cheek.

"Right, but listen, please, and pay attention to your brilliant big brother right now."

She grinned at that, and he continued, "Now, remember that I have more experience with our padre than you do, since I am the oldest, and I have certainly pushed every boundary the man has ever set."

She held up her arms to examine the bright red lacquer covering her nails, but he could tell that she paid attention.

"So, I have more experience," he repeated. "and more expertise, and therefore, let me share some incredibly sage advice with my baby sister. This punishment Dad doled out to you this evening is actually pretty standard fare for this type of crime. He would have given the same one to any of the rest of us. No one would have gotten a lighter sentence from him. When it concerns our educations, he considers disruptive behavior on the level with petty crimes in the military. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, but Tony….."

Refusing to allow her to continue along her current line of reacting, he interrupted, his voice changing suddenly from placating to firm and decisive. "Mark my words, Abby, that if you continue to cause a scene with Kate about telling on you- about tattling and alerting Dad- instead of racking it up to sibling snitching, you will find yourself across our father's lap getting your butt blistered before bedtime."

Scowling, she nevertheless listened to his advice, and he could sense she was beginning to realize he knew what he was saying would transpire.

"Again, I speak from personal experience, and every single time I have kept up a bad attitude after Dad has handed down a punishment, he has then gone and capped that punishment with a physically excruciating and very embarrassing spanking. You do not- in any capacity whatsoever- want to push those corporal punishment buttons for him, little sister. I promise you that you will not sit comfortably for quite a while if you continue to act this way."

He leaned down and grasped her under the arms to pull her up beside him. Kissing her cheek he promised, "You know if some outsider ever does you wrong I will wreak havoc, and you will have vengeance on what remains of that outsider's body and soul. That operative word is outsider, though, because you know that family trumps all."

A knock on the doorframe concluded the conversation, and Tim reported that he had been sent to usher everyone to supper.

Tickling his little sister as she tried to jog down the steps, Tony had her laughing loudly as they skidded into the kitchen together, washed their hands, and slid into their seats. Inclining his head in her direction, Tony signaled his dad that he had successfully calmed the youngest member of the family and nipped any further trouble in the bud.

With a look, Jethro thanked him.

Suppertime conversation revolved around school, and both boys pulled out their progress reports and handed them to their father for his perusal. Tony managed to appear nonchalant at the exchange, but once the paper left his grasp, he quickly rubbed his hands on the legs of his jeans under the tablecloth.

Pulling out his glasses Gibbs looked from one child's report to the other report while his sons exchanged nervous glances across the table. To their relief he accepted both and narrated his approval as he signed them, and the boys hurriedly commandeered the copies on the pretense that they should go ahead and pack them in their bookbags before they got misplaced.

Hours later Leroy Jethro Gibbs finished up an oak shadow box he had designed and crafted in the basement. Stepping back so that he could take a panoramic view of the creation, he regarded the piece with a critical eye as he downed a shot of bourbon.

It passed inspection, so he set down his glass, attempted to unkink his neck and shoulder muscles, and swept the wood shavings littering the floor into a small mound. He used a dust pan to gather them and then watched as he sent them falling in a stream within the rest of litter already in the trash can.

Stretching again, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to repeat the attempt to unkink his aching muscles. It had been a long, hard day, and he needed to get some rest.

Climbing the basement steps he reviewed what he needed to tackle in between work and home the following day. If he could carve out an hour somewhere he could knock out two or three of the errands.

The kitchen gleamed when he paused to set his coffee cup in the sink, compliments of Kate and Abby. The girls had its cleanup on their duty roster for the week, and they usually gave it more effort than the boys did.

Gibbs went from the kitchen to the living room cutting off lights as he walked. No matter how many times he told the kids to cut off electricity when they left rooms, they still did not seem to grasp the instructions.

Their sincere excuse always boiled down to their even more emphatic insistence that they planned to return to the area within mere moments, or at the most, mere minutes.

Upstairs Jethro Gibbs followed the same familiar routine he had begun seventeen years before, begun that dizzying, humbling evening long ago when his firstborn spent his very first night under Jethro's roof.

Gibbs smiled softly to himself, enjoying the flash of memory of his baby boy and that helpless, overwhelmingly terrifying feeling that had slammed into him as he realized that his take home little human being depended upon him for life itself. No training at all- none from questioning, reading, or relying upon his extensive and thorough Marine instruction had prepared him for recognizing his responsibility to his little son that first night, nor had anything primed him for the absolutely intoxicating love that he felt for his child.

No, nothing could touch that, because that feeling had never left him, but had multiplied in intensity and depth three additional first nights, surreal evenings when he welcomed Kate, then Tim, and finally, little Abby.

Gibbs grinned again at the naïve young man he once had been.

It took several edgy months before he could finally fall into an exhausted sleep without checking his sleeping baby several times through the evening and night, just to assure himself that baby Tony still breathed.

A lifetime lay within those seventeen years.

Jethro turned the knob to the room the boys shared and took in the scene before him with affection. As usual, Tim lay perfectly positioned in his bed, the covers neat and spread over him with almost no disruption of the linen. Crossing the room, Jethro leaned down and kissed his forehead, and even then, Tim did not stir.

Tony, on the other hand, lay sprawled across most of the bed, arms and legs flung so that he lay partially tangled in the covers and partially free of them. Jethro started repositioning Tony and pulling the blankets onto his son as adroitly as he could, working purposefully while trying not to wake him.

Satisfied finally, he kissed the crown of the teen's head and tiptoed from the room.

Across the hall, his actions nearly mirrored his steps with Tim and Tony. Kate lay perfectly positioned on her left side, hands tucked daintily under her cheek. The covers swathed her still form like a glove.

Kissing her softly on the temple, he smoothed her chestnut coloured hair before approaching his youngest.

Abby, like her eldest brother, had her arms flung out as though inviting beautiful dreams to find her. The comforter lay partially on the bed and partially off, with the top sheet cascading around it.

Jethro leaned over her and yanked both back to spread them gently over his baby.

Rubbing a finger across her soft cheek he drew his hand back in alarm. She felt decidedly warm. Softly placing his palm over Abby's forehead he let it stay several seconds before he concluded that perhaps she had just gotten too hot under the comforter earlier. He adjusted the bedding once again until, finally satisfied, he kissed her forehead and slipped out of the room and to his own bed.


	7. Undetermined

Undetermined

After a quick shower he collapsed gratefully into the springs of his own mattress, groaning with the sudden rush of physical release as his muscles relaxed.

He closed his eyes and had just allowed himself to drift into the first embracing stage of deep sleep when the side of his bed shifted and a small voice whimpered, "Daddy, I don't feel good."

Rocketing awake, the agent scrambled to sit up. Finally succeeding, he discovered his daughter. He tugged Abby towards him, quickly yanking her against his chest as his hand went automatically to her forehead.

She whimpered miserably.

He could feel the fever radiating from her skin.

"Ok, Honey," he whispered, sliding out from under her and settling her against the spare pillow. "Hold tight a second and I will be right back."

As he had done more nights than he cared to recall for all of his children at one time or another, Gunny Gibbs hurried to the bathroom, grabbed the thermometer, filled a glass with cold water, soaked a washcloth with cold water and wrung it, and located the fever reducing medicine. Setting the supplies on his night table, he switched on the nearest lamp.

His little girl moaned and curled her body into a ball underneath the covers.

Jethro grabbed his glasses and checked the thermometer's gauge before slipping it under his daughter's tongue. While he waited for a reading he made a visible check- he saw no rash, hives, or physical abnormalities.

Glancing at the clock to confirm he had given the thermometer enough time to do its work, he realized that the time was just past two in the morning.

Jethro blew out a breath before consulting the tiny numbers. It registered a hundred and three. Taking a second look he confirmed the number, and hurriedly made Abby sit up to take the medication.

She was a sick baby, all right.

Smiling reassuringly, though, he waited for her to drink some of the water to wash away the medicinal taste, then gently bathed her face with the cooled washcloth.

"Ready to go back to bed?" he whispered, shifting the covers to help her ease back out and return to her room.

That brought sudden tears, and Abby begged miserably, "Daddy, I want to stay here with you, please, for a while."

He regarded her sympathetically, resigned to the inevitable, and watched as she curled back into her previous position. Of his four children, Tony and Abby would demand to stay with him any time they had significant fevers, refusing any suggestion that they would be more comfortable in their own rooms.

Yes, eventually they would move, but not until their fevers had dramatically lessened.

Plumping the pillow under her, he regarded the clock again. It was much too early to call Ducky.

He needed to make sure his daughter slept and the medication had a chance to take effect.

Cutting off the light, he slid back into bed. Abby scooted over to lie across his chest. Pinned, he gently rubbed her back until she fell into a fitful sleep, and exhausted, he slid into sleep a few minutes later.

Just a few hours passed before the older kids hurried through the house grabbing last minute school items and then raced out the door. They met Ducky as the doctor made his way into the residence.

Regarding Jethro with a grin he greeted him with an observation. "Well, three fourths of your progeny appear completely healthy and robust."

Sipping a cup of steaming coffee clutched in his left hand Gibbs thrust out his right, which held a fragrant cup of hot tea. "Made you some tea, Duck, and you know how much I appreciate having you come here before work."

Acknowledging the offering, Dr. Mallard waved towards the kitchen. "Let me take care of the tea after I have examined young Abigail."

Gibbs watched him go, appreciative of his friend's work ethic.

Half an hour later Jethro settled Abby on the sofa downstairs with her favorite stuffed animal, Bert, several books, and the television's remote control. Within reach he had placed both juice and water, and he kissed the tip of her nose and gave the final instructions. "Ok, now remember that I will check on you at lunch, but that you can call me if you need me, Baby."

She nodded, still too miserable to enjoy the fact that she had the house to herself and would not be required to make an appearance at school for the rest of the week.

Holding up her arms insistently she pulled her father down for a hug.

"How long does flu last, Dad? How long did Ducky say?"

"Ducky said you'll feel pretty rough for several days. Now, I left the phone right here, and if your tummy feels sick and you can not make the bathroom, I put the little trash can right beside you."

Kissing her again, he made a visual check of the area before calling out his good bye.

As he cranked the car he replayed the time the family had been awake, the last hour or so. He had double checked the three oldest earlier that morning, despite the fact that they expressed their good health.

Surprisingly, all three insisted they did not want to miss school for any reason that week, citing not wanting to fall behind as an explanation.

On any other day their protests would have sparked suspicion.

Today, however, the exhausted father did not take time to dissect their reaction.

Reversing out of the driveway and onto the street Gibbs pondered the irony of kids demanding school instead of begging to avoid it for exactly the thirty seconds it took before he turned onto the next street.

He chalked it up to responsibility. Perhaps high school had matured them.

For their part, the three oldest steamrolled towards their own schemes.

At school that morning Kate and Rachel celebrated obtaining permission for Kate to spend the night with Rachel.

The girls giggled gleefully at their lockers as Rachel congratulated her friend. "Smart move telling your dad we had to work on a psychology project Friday night."

Kate danced in place a couple of seconds before agreeing, "Well, I made it close to the truth. Going to Beau's party will have us engaging in some psychology all right Friday!"

Across Washington at the exact same time Bryson pulled his car to the curb and watched Tim alight near the subway entrance closest to the Smithsonian. "Ok, Man, make sure you get back to this spot this afternoon. I need to get home right after work."  
Grinning, Tim opened the door so quickly that he nearly lost his balance. He turned to lean back in and thank his accomplice. "Have no fear- I just appreciate this so much. I really want to see this Wright exhibit."

Bryson nodded, "Well, your brother's a good guy, Tim, and he said it would mean a lot to him for me to help you. That's what I call kin-to-keep."

Back at the communal high school Tony and Ariel shared a passionate, celebratory kiss, interrupted only when the warning bell for the first class shrilled.

Pulling away Ariel used both hands to press lightly on Tony's chest and whispered, "Hold that thought, now. Thanks to your brother helping out with your grade sheet, you and I will have a long and lovely evening Friday night instead of you grounded and me lonesome."

Closing the distance between them, Tony maneuvered her against the wall and leaned down for another quick kiss. Stepping back, he grinned at her. "My heart felt that same fear multiplied by a hundred when I handed Dad my progress report. Little Timmy knows his stuff, though, and my father practically radiated with his pride for me when he saw the grades."

"Hmmm…" she giggled. "Have you no shame, Tony?"

"Absolutely," he agreed. "However, I have none in this situation."

Ariel laughed at his honest assessment, and the two seniors slipped into their classrooms.


	8. Conclusive

Conclusive

Though the Gibblets had paved their way to the weekend strategically, they could not control the actions of others.

Before lunch that same day the school's well meaning attendance clerk called the Gunny at NCIS to confirm that Abby would not return to school for the remainder of that week. Explaining that Kate had alerted her about Abby's status, the clerk offered to have the teachers gather some assignments for Abby to complete as she felt better. That way, she wouldn't fall too far behind.

Grateful at the offer, Gibbs thanked her and asked that she send the work home with Tim.

Less than an hour later when the clerk sent for Tim to hand over the work, the whole covert operation began to unravel.

She called NICS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs a second time.

When the call disconnected, the Gunny crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair a couple of minutes. His mind synthesized the information he had received while he focused upon the skylight a few feet above him.

A conversation he had overheard years earlier popped into his periphery, eight years previously, to be exact. Climbing the basement steps one evening to replenish his coffee, four loud voices resonated from the living room.

Jethro groaned. Evidently his four squabbled over the television selection for the evening, though they had assured him that all had agreed on the show they planned to view.

Setting his cup down by the coffee pot with a bang, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Could his children manage to make it through an entire day without a skirmish?

Some sixth sense or intuition stopped him from intervening, though, and he leaned against the cabinet instead.

Pouring a fresh cup of coffee, he remained where he was and concentrated upon the audible interplay amongst his children.

Tony's voice radiated anger, but Jethro could tell that disappointment steered the furious tone. "This conversation should not be necessary, Katie, and it really annoys me that you dropped the ball here, with us, with your family. Remember that you have brothers and a sister!"

"Just because you're nine you think you can boss everybody around and tell them what to do," Kate retorted in the bossy tone she tended to adopt when with her sister and brothers. "I can do what I want."

Six year old Abby's outraged response followed that pronouncement, and she chided her sister. "Tony is too the boss next to Daddy!"

"Tony means you should have…" piped up Tim, who evidently wanted to make his voice heard in the fracas so that he could establish membership.

"No one cares what you think and I don't want you to say what Tony means!" Kate interrupted sarcastically.

That evidently sent Tony over the edge, and though Jethro heard him speak calmly, the underlying threat in his son's words resonated as he enunciated the syllables. "Get this straight, Katie, right this minute. Tim and Abby have every right to fuss at you, and you know how mad I am at you and that you deserve it. If you ever, ever, ever again let someone act mean to one of us….."

Abby interjected, her voice high and indignant, "It hurt my feelings and made me cry!"

"Bart called her a crybaby 'cause she fell," Tim contributed, joining into the conversation with a flourish.

"Exactly my point," Tony agreed. "Abby is our sister, and I have told you- I have told all of you that outside of this house, we stick together. We can fuss and argue here 'cause this is inside our house, but when we walk out the door, we turn into a team. If someone attacks one of us, all of us jump in to defend that one. We are a family."

For several seconds silence ensued, and Jethro waited impatiently to hear the conclusion, proud of his oldest's words.

Finally, Tony finished, "And Katie, you know if someone hurts you I will have your back, but so will Timmy and Abby. Today you dropped the ball and watched someone make fun of your baby sister and you did nothing to help her."

"Then you got on the bus and saved me," Abby called out gleefully, "and made Bart cry, too, Tony."

"I will always look out for you," Tony assured her. "But remember that Tim got on right behind me and he struck back, too. He got revenge on Bart, also."

Gibbs heard Kate start crying, and Abby must have immediately moved to comfort her, because Tony stalled her. "Wait a minute, Abby, because I want to make sure Kate understands that I will make her regret it big time if she ever stands back again and does not protect her family from an outsider."

Kate's agreement came within moments, followed by apologies to her siblings.

Their father did not interfere.

His pride at their unity, though, throbbed through him.

Jethro smiled at the remembrance of that afternoon eight years before.

Supper that evening lasted quite a bit longer than it normally did, even in a house with four teenagers. After making certain that Abby drank some broth and that he had situated her as comfortably as possible, Jethro Gibbs instructed his other three children to sit back down at the table once the cleanup finished.

Pretty smug with the events of their own days, and with no premonition of disaster, the three worked quickly and assembled expectantly, joining their father as he sipped his usual cup of coffee.

Probably their dad wanted to make sure they alerted him ahead of time if any flu symptoms arose with them, so that he could get Ducky before anyone woke him in the early pre dawn hours.

Poor Abby was miserable, and they sympathized with her suffering.

Jethro, however, regarded them from his parental perspective first, as a group, then each one individually.

Not one to spend an abundance of time communicating a point nor a fan of not addressing a problem when he encountered it, he addressed Kate first. "Tell me about your psychology project again with Rachel. What is it you two have planned to do together?"

A bit surprised that he even asked, she nevertheless tried to sound excited. "Well, we have focused on these psychology terms, and we are tracing the root words, and the prefixes and suffixes. It sounds like fun, right?"

She smiled brightly, and Jethro realized with a flash that she now looked more like a young woman than a teen.

"So this necessitates your spending the night at Rachel's?" Jethro rested his arms on the table and leaned towards her.

"Right, Daddy, because we just can not find another time to get together and tackle this. She has a ton of after school activities, and of course you know that so do I."

Something about her dad's stance suddenly worried her, and she glanced desperately at Tony for support. He, however, had no knowledge of her current subterfuge, and regarded the exchange with genuine curiosity.

She licked her lips and added helpfully, "We really, really want to get a good grade."

Without taking his eyes off of her, Jethro leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. The day had proved enlightening to him, to say the least. After his initial chat with the school official, he had followed up on a couple of his personal hunches.

He questioned smoothly, "Do you want to stick with that story, Kate?"

Her eyes widened and she didn't respond, uncertain exactly of what her father did or did not actually know.

Tony and Tim exchanged shocked glances.

Jethro waited several seconds before he made his next move.

"Answer me," he directed, looking from her to Tim and Tony, who both appeared clueless. That confirmed his suspicion that Kate, alone, had cooked up her own Friday night scheme sans familia.

"I just- I mean, yes, that is what we wanted to do Friday night." Kate evidently felt it important to stick to the story she and Rachel had so optimistically crafted.

Then desperately she added a reminder, "You already said yes to the plan, Dad."

"That I did," Gibbs agreed.

Propping his forearms on the table he elaborated. "Right now, though, I not only am revoking that earlier permission, but am grounding you for the next couple of weeks."

Incredulous at the surprise turn of events, Kate narrowed her eyes angrily. "Just what did I do, Dad?" she sputtered, not willing to turn loose of her Friday night plans without a fight.


	9. Without A Doubt

Without a Doubt

"What did you do?" Jethro repeated, his anger straining to surface at her display of attitude. "First, Kate, as your parent, I really do not owe you an explanation of any decision I make."

That did not please her, and she protested loudly, "Dad, no, you said I could go and now you just took it back! You never treat me fairly, and you just want to be mean to me!"

With that vehement contradiction, Gibbs reached his breaking point with his daughter. "Close your mouth and do not say another word until I give you permission to do so! You, Young Lady, have outdone yourself conspiring, lying, and deliberately planning to deceive me. Because you lied, because you acted both dishonestly and disrespectfully, your butt will sit home until a distant day arrives when I tell you differently. Other than school, your interactions with your friends have just been stopped indefinitely. Also, since you could not own up to what you knew you had done and chose to blame me instead, I just cut out your television viewing, as well. Now, the only decision still up in the air involves whether I will be blistering your bottom tonight. If you don't pull yourself together immediately I will deliver that spanking and it will be one you will not forget for a while."

He regarded her pointedly, clearly expecting her to reverse course.

Nevertheless, anger over the destruction of her Friday night and the prospect of days and days of grounding still controlled her expression, and by no stretch of the imagination did she want to accept responsibility for deserving the punishment.

Her reply was to regard him with a smoldering expression in lieu of any other option.

"Upstairs," he ordered, and she realized with a shock that she had allowed her attitude and her behavior to go too far.

Crossing her arms across her chest she slipped some of the defiance out of her expression and regarded him anew, "Ok, satisfied?"

"No, and I meant go to your room now."

"Dad, I…"

"If I have to repeat myself, Kate, you will receive that spanking right here along with the probability of your brothers witnessing the punishment."

Her obstinacy stunned the boys, who cringed at even a threat of corporeal punishment. It had been quite some time since any of the four children had elicited that consequence from their dad, who reserved spanking for really egregious deeds. Regarding their sister wide eyed, her siblings advised urgently, "Kate, just go," and "You are making this so much worse!"

Finally it dawned on her that she had lit a powder keg with her smart mouth and attitude and had made her own situation much worse.

She began to cry.

Tony and Tim, still stunned at her dramatically ridiculous response, both motioned her to obey.

Finally, she slid out of the chair and regarded her father hopefully through her tears. Maybe he would change his mind. She whispered, "Dad, I am sorry about the way I behaved…"

Not bothering to acknowledge the words, he pointed to the stairs.

She obeyed then.

As all four of his children could attest, Jethro Gibbs did not spank often, but once he decided to do so, he followed through at once.

Watching their sister's figure disappear, both boys exchanged panicked glances and swallowed.

Glancing nervously at his father, Tim tried to gauge whether his father knew more than just about Kate's attempt at subterfuge.

As soon as Jethro turned to Tony, his oldest sucked in a breath and bit his bottom lip in an attempt to calm his rising fear.

Somehow his dad already knew about his grade sheet- that was abundantly evident. In seventeen years of experience as Jethro's son, Tony knew how to interpret his father's body language and facial expressions.

Thinking quickly, he licked his lips and flashed a brilliant smile at his father. He would just ride out the storm and hope for the best.

Instead of dealing with his oldest first, though, Gibbs turned to Tim, who immediately crumbled.

Tony shot him an incredulous look. At least Tim could wait until he knew Jethro had the goods before capitulating!

Gibbs did not waste time describing the details of what he knew about Tim skipping school. Nor did he share that once he ascertained Tim was ditching classes, he surmised easily that Tony and Tim had aided and abetted each other. Common sense pointed to a quid pro quo situation. It didn't take him long to guess what Tony would have demanded from Tim. Recalling Tony's stellar progress report, confirming the grades had been easy to do.

Accepting the inevitable, Tony threw in the towel before his father finished tearing Tim out of the frame.

Determined not to share their sister's fate, both boys admitted culpability, apologized immediately, and accepted their punishments with quick "Yes, sirs" rather than by arguing with the Gunny. Though just as upset with their future confinement and loss of privileges, neither wanted to push their dad's buttons the way that Kate had done earlier.

Commiserating with each other at bedtime, they also congratulated each other for de-escalating the situation rather than inflaming it. They considered Kate's rebellion stupidly misplaced, but did agree that she had shown some daredevil characteristics in the confrontation. Their sedate sister had lost control, all right!

Lying on her tummy across the hall as her brothers whispered to each other, Kate found no comfort in holding the record for being the only one to have gotten spanked in a span of several months.

Groaning miserably, she promised herself that she would do nothing to earn a repeat of that punishment. Her stomach tightened just recalling that miserable time that elapsed until her father left the kitchen and appeared in her room. The dread of knowing what he would deliver almost rivaled the actual butt blistering itself. Embarrassing as it had been to have been yanked unceremoniously across her dad's lap, the sheer agony of his heavy, calloused hand connecting with her bare bottom for ten excruciating slaps overshadowed that.

Never again!

Some time later, the Marine Gunny, NCIS team leader father made the rounds to check his four children.

One day, he assured himself- some day, all four would make good decisions and would act responsibly.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that today was a setback, but that from babyhood he had groomed them towards a milestone day when they would not actually require his guidance.

Until then, though, he would have to remember, and they would have to be reminded, that in their home, Father always knew best.

"**It looks like Boss might be waking now," observed Tim to the others, speaking softly.**

Opening his eyes to an audience, Team Leader Jethro Gibbs saw that Tim, Tony, Abby, and Kate surrounded him, all watching him anxiously.

Trying to make sense of why they were there and why he was on the sofa, he rubbed his mouth. "Why are all of you watching me?"

"Cause we love you," beamed Abby.

Tony nodded his agreement, "and because we want you to know we have the rest of the day off."

"That is, of course, because you will not be heading back to work," Kate elaborated, softly clapping her hands together.

"Not today, anyway, you won't," Tim assured him. "because you wrenched your knee again, Boss, on the case."

Gibbs struggled to a sitting position and then carefully stood, bracing by grabbing the arm of the sofa.

In unison, Tim and Tony motioned him back towards his seat.

Annoyed that they questioned his move, he stood his ground and demanded, "Why do you feel it necessary to refuse to allow me to go make a cup of coffee?"

Clearly, he considered it a rhetorical question and did not expect a reply from any of them. He meant it as a warning.

"Because," Abby tilted her head to make eye contact and bestowed a sweet smile upon him, "because we made you coffee already, Gibbs."

Kate supplied more detail, "along with soup and sandwiches, so you are set for a relaxing rest of the afternoon and evening."

"Impressive, don't you think, Boss?" Tony batted his eyes. "Admit that we know just what to do for you today. We really did consider what we determined as being in your best interests considering your injury."

"If it makes you feel better, Boss, we already ran our care plan by Ducky, and he agreed," Tim reassured him.

A rush of pride came over the agent, and for several moments Jethro Gibbs regarded the four eager faces before him, first as a group, and then each one individually.

Finally, he grinned. "Ok, let's do what you four think best."


End file.
